


to the good old days

by quietgal



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Canon Universe, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Music, Nostalgia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 01:51:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11303271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietgal/pseuds/quietgal
Summary: “A record player used to be enough for you. Don’t you remember?”





	to the good old days

**Author's Note:**

> i bakc

“Dude, it’s mad easy,” Alfred says, not bothering to look up from his phone. “I can set it up for you. Then all you have to do is download the app and you can play music, like, all around the house. It’s awesome.”

Arthur frowns at him from across the table. “I just don’t see the point.”

Alfred looks up at that and raises an eyebrow at him. “Uh, what? Don’t tell me you stopped doing that thing where you dance around to punk music–”

“That’s none of your business!” Arthur quickly stops him, red in the face.

“Yeah, see? It’d be good for that. Nice an’ loud.” Alfred looks back down at his phone. All that it offers him is a Facebook feed, but it’s more entertaining than sitting still. He notes Arthur’s grumbling, how he’s sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. He’d have to be an idiot not to notice Arthur’s clear embarrassment, but he knows bringing it up would just embarrass him further.

“… I like the radio you gave me,” Arthur finally says.

Alfred furrows his eyebrows and looks up. “… You mean… the boombox? From like 10 years ago?” He laughs a little. “Man, Artie, you’re just figuring that out? You’re such an old man.”

“I-I didn’t say that!” Arthur insists, sitting up straight again. Alfred just chuckles and shakes his head, once more looking down at his phone. Arthur slowly settles back into his embarrassed, slouched position. “I just don’t see a reason to get something new.”

“Well, I can pay for it, so don’t worry about it.”

Arthur presses his lips together. “… It just seems silly.”

Alfred scoffs, not bothering to look up again. “No, dude, it’s awesome. Innovation.”

“But the older things still work,” Arthur murmurs. “I don’t need anything new.”

Alfred sighs and places his phone face-down on the table. He leans over it slightly, placing his arms on it and meeting Arthur’s eyes. “Maybe not, but it’s nice to have new things. You know that.”

Arthur seems hesitant. Alfred rolls his eyes.

“Arthur, the old things still work, yeah, but the new stuff works better. You _know_ that. Don’t be stubborn, okay?”

“I’m not being stubborn…” Arthur’s voice starts out quiet and ends even quieter. Alfred raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll come over some time next week. I’ll set it up then. ‘Kay?”

Arthur doesn’t respond, which Alfred just takes as approval. He’s about to pick up his phone again when he hears Arthur sigh. It’s so unlike his usual sigh – no signs of frustration, anger, or annoyance – that it makes Alfred do a double take from his phone back to Arthur’s face.

“… You okay?” Alfred asks, then flinches a little, surprised that he even said that aloud.

Arthur tilts his head down slightly. “I suppose… just nostalgic.”

“Nostalgic?”

Arthur nods, traces of a small smile flitting through his expression. “Yes. For when things were simpler.”

Uh oh. Alfred bites his lip, not really mentally prepared for a lecture.

“A record player used to be enough for you. Don’t you remember?” Arthur locks eyes with him, and the look in those green eyes is so sickly sweet that Alfred can’t look away. “The Summer of Love… if you weren’t seeing the musicians themselves, you were locked away with your vinyls.”

Alfred can’t help smiling a bit at the memory. “Well…”

“And you used to wear flowers in your hair. What was that song you liked?”

Alfred looks down at the table. “San Francisco?”

“Yes!” Arthur laughs. Alfred looks back up at him at that; he hasn’t heard Arthur laugh for a while. “And, God, were you enamored with the Beatles that year–”

“They released, like, the best album of all time! Everyone was!” Alfred immediately argues, flushed.

“Mm,” Arthur chuckles. He waits until Alfred settles to speak again. “You know that was 50 years ago?”

Alfred grimaces. “Of course.”

“Things were so different,” Arthur muses.

Alfred shrugs slowly in response.

They’re silent for a few moments, thinking.

Alfred looks up when he sees Arthur start to move. “There’s no use in sitting here mourning the past,” Arthur grunts as he stands up. “All we can do is celebrate it.”

“Celebrate it?” Alfred echoes, watching Arthur leave the room. Once he’s left alone, he sighs to himself. It’s not that he hates when Arthur gets nostalgic, but it’s a little… well, a little much. Arthur says he hates to be called an old man, but he sure does love to act like he knows the past better than everyone else. Except Yao, obviously, but Yao’s never nostalgic. Or at least not embarrassingly so. Arthur, on the other hand, usually embarrasses himself.

Arthur only proves Alfred right when he walks out with a small record player in his hands.

“Oh, no, Arthur,” Alfred laughs. “What have you done?”

Arthur grins as he places it down and begins to make quick work of setting it up. “I found it at an antique store. It was in such good condition, I couldn’t possibly say no.”

“You could’ve,” Alfred cocks an eyebrow, though he smiles through it. “What happened to yours?”

Arthur is too focused on the record player to look at him. “Not sure… in a closet somewhere, probably.”

Alfred hums. He leans his chin on his palm and watches Arthur set up. It doesn’t take long; Arthur’s clearly been practicing. When the record he’s chosen begins to play, Arthur rears away slightly with a satisfied “a-ha!” and watches the disc rotate.

Alfred, on the other hand, perks up in interest at the sound of the music. After a moment, he scoffs. “This is _not_ from the sixties.”

Arthur turns to him, still grinning, as the voice on the recording croons. _Some day, when I’m awfully low… when the world is cold, I will feel a glow just thinking of you and the way you look tonight._

“No,” Arthur admits. “But I quite like this song.” Before Alfred can get too far in his scoffing, shaking his head, and looking away, Arthur interjects. “And I know you do too.”

A stupid smile is playing on Alfred’s lips, and he knows it would be silly to fight over something that’s obviously true. “… Well… yeah.”

Arthur comes to his side and places his hands on Alfred’s shoulders. “Come, love,” he speaks softly into Alfred’s ear. “Come dance with me.”

Alfred laughs, but he stands up and takes one of Arthur’s hands. “You’re such a sentimental old man.”

“Maybe,” Arthur allows, smiling as he leads Alfred to the empty space in the middle of the room. “But you’re not so young yourself.”

Alfred presses his lips together in a defeated smile as he takes Arthur’s waist. “Yeah, yeah.”

They sway quietly as the song continues. Arthur rests his cheek on Alfred’s shoulder. Alfred closes his eyes. If he pretends hard enough, it’s like they can go back in time. Back in time to those quiet moments they enjoyed together, just like this one, but years and years before today. Moments when they thought of no politics, no economics, no worries at all. Just each other; just love.


End file.
